"You are faint! You are wounded! Indeed you are wounded! Oh, where! Oh! did any of our people strike you?"
"No—it was one of our men, Edith! I do not know your other name, sweet lady!"
"Never mind my name—it is Edith—that will do; but your wound—your wound—oh! you are very pale—here! lie down upon this settee. Oh, it is too hard!—come into my room, it opens here upon the hall—there is a comfortable lounge there—come in and lie down—let me get you something?"
"Thanks—thanks, dearest lady, but I must get upon my horse and go!"
"Go?"
"Yes, Edith—don't you understand, that after what I have done—after what I have had the joy of doing—the only honorable course left open to me, is to go and give myself up to answer the charges that may be brought against me?"
"Oh, heaven! I know! I know what you have incurred by defending me! I know the awful penalty laid upon a military officer who lifts his hand against his superior. Don't go! oh, don't go!"
"And do you really take so much interest in my fate, sweetest lady?" said the youth, gazing at her with the deepest and most delightful emotions.
"'Take an interest' in my generous protector! How should I help it? Oh! don't go! Don't think of going. You will not—will you? Say that you will not!"
"You will not advise me to anything dishonorable, I am sure."